Symphony No. 4 in C minor[a]; Adagio fragment of 1934[a]; Symphony No. 15 in A major, opus 141[b]; Five Fragments for Orchestra, opus 42[a]; Interview with Mstislav Rostropovich by Jon Tolansky[c].
Mstislav Rostropovich, London Symphony Orchestra.
Andante AN4090. DDD. 3-CD set TT 72:41 + 61:41 + 48:58.
Recorded live, Barbican Hall, London, 26 February 1998[a], 28 October 1998[b]; London, January 2002[c].

Symphony No. 4 in C minor, opus 43; Adagio fragment of 1934.
Oleg Caetani, Orchestra Sinfonica di Milano Giuseppe Verdi.
Arts Music 47703-2. DDD. TT 68:10.
Recorded live, Auditorium di Milano, Italy, March 2004.

Although a mere six years separate Rostropovich's 1992 recording of Symphony No. 4 with the National Symphony Orchestra (Teldec 0630-17046-2; deleted) from this 1998 live recording with the London Symphony Orchestra, the differences between them are striking. First, there are dramatic tempo changes. Rostropovich is far more scrupulous about Shostakovich's metronome marks in his earlier recording, though there is some historical justification for a few of his later changes. For instance, what seems an eccentrically slow first movement retransition at Fig. 91 in the LSO performance is actually marked at something approaching Rostropovich's tempo on Shostakovich's two-piano reduction, recently issued by DSCH Publishers, Moscow.

But some other changes do seem merely eccentric; in particular, there seems no justification at all for the slowness of the finale's Allegro. In the LSO performance, this whole section is deprived of the air its whirlwind aggression needs, and sags terribly. Ponderousness seems a characteristic of this recording overall though, and it may well indicate a desire to do something new with the symphony - to avoid becoming over-visceral and to bring some of Shostakovich's more uncomfortable metronome markings (which we are now unused to hearing) to our attention. On the other hand, some of the radical, indeed revelatory, aspects of Rostropovich's Teldec performance concern precisely this bold attempt to realise such tempo indications. The most striking moment comes about 15 minutes into the first movement. Shostakovich indicates a sudden drop in tempo from quaver = 138 to quaver = 60, more than halving the speed at the moment of climax. To the best of my knowledge, no conductor has actually observed these marks faithfully, but here Rostropovich comes close, and the result is magnificent. All the more puzzling, then, that he should step back into line with the LSO to do what most other conductors do here, decreasing the speed only to quaver = 120; still a drop in tempo from the preceding 138, but not nearly so dramatic. The whole sense of catastrophe at the moment of climax is greatly weakened by doing so, and the LSO performance is thus deprived of this additional distinction.

The later recording is taken from a concert, and though these live performances often gain in atmosphere what they may lose in accuracy, the LSO recording actually sounds more engineered than many a studio recording, which is disappointing. Apart from Rostropovich's brief spoken introduction to the Adagio fragment at the start of the Fourth Symphony disc and a modest snippet of applause at the very end, there is nothing in the sound to indicate that it is a live performance. The heavy-handedness of this tampering is particularly evident in the at times overwhelming bass: worst affected is the central climax of the finale, which is almost completely drowned by timpani. This can happen in a live performance, of course, so one can't be certain that this fault lies entirely with sound engineers. But there are other oddities: the ending of the second movement is noticeably louder than in the earlier recording, which spoils its unearthly quality. Most bizarrely of all, in the finale the celesta's final enigmatic top D has vanished altogether. Once again, this might have been a performance quirk, but it seems unlikely.

The most attractive feature of the LSO set is that it comes with the Fifteenth Symphony, some entertaining interviews with Rostropovich, the complete Five Fragments and the unfinished Adagio fragment that partially found its way into the Fourth Symphony's finale. It is also supplemented by two essays, one about Rostropovich's relationship with the LSO, and the other an excellent general essay about Rostropovich and Shostakovich by Elizabeth Wilson. Still, the coupling with Fifteenth Symphony means that the LSO set remains in stiff competition with the Teldec set of the complete symphonies, which includes a performance of the Fifteenth as fine as its Fourth.

The LSO performance of the unfinished Adagio was not the first commercial recording; Rozhdestvensky's performance was issued by Melodiya in 1988 (A10 00319 000; deleted), along with the Five Fragments and four piano drafts. But this was the UK premiere and, as such, made the 1998 Fourth Symphony concert something of a historical event. Inevitably, other conductors have been drawn to this fully orchestrated, rejected sketch, and Oleg Caetani's recording of the Fourth Symphony, also issued in 2004, proudly (if misleadingly) advertises itself as "including fragments of the unpublished movement". In fact, the Adagio fragment is unmistakeably the prototype for the finale. A significant portion of it is strikingly similar to a passage in the finale (Fig. 186 - 188), evoking some of the violent scenes from Lady Macbeth even more strongly than the finale itself does at this point; for a brief moment at Fig. 188, the music is identical. It is therefore rather surprising to read in the liner notes for Caetani's CD that the Adagio fragment could have replaced either of the opening movements; the author then suggests firmer links with the first movement. Though the factual content of this essay is not wholly reliable in any case, the poor quality of the translation hardly does it any favours. Low-quality liner notes seem to be a weakness of the Caetani set; a pity, given the standard of both playing and recording.

Caetani's reading of the Fourth Symphony is fine in many ways. Where no ambiguity arises, his tempi are absolutely precise, and after the LSO's boomy, woolly sound, the crispness of the Arts recording is a relief. But he has no interpretative surprises either: the first movement climaxes at an altogether too straightforward quaver = 94, a standard tempo for conductors who feel uneasy about Shostakovich's own directions. In fact, there is really very little scope for ignoring this particular marking in the score: in all editions including Shostakovich's own two-piano reduction, the indication here is a very clear quaver = 60. Caetani, like so many others (including, sadly, Rostropovich in the LSO recording), normalises this moment so that it has all the drive and energy it needs to sound comfortable, thereby becoming bland. That may seem an inappropriate term for a performance that blisters with such furious heat; but the equation loud + fast = exciting does not always make for the most moving or effective performances. When so hard-driven, nothing really registers. This proves the complete ruin of the cor anglais solo near the end; solos that follow that should sound elegiac sound merely casual. Overall, the orchestral playing of the Orchestra Sinfonica di Milano Giuseppe Verdi lags behind that of the LSO: the flute frullati at the end of the development don't quite come off, and there are other instances of untidy ensemble throughout. Caetani's metronomic precision quickly palls, and it is hard not to miss Rostropovich's infinitely richer, deeper flexibility.

In terms of stark choice between Caetani, the new Rostropovich and Rostropovich's old Teldec recording, the best overall performance is still the Teldec. But - masters of clever marketing that they are - the LSO have done everything possible to make their new set indispensable. Their booklet essays are excellent, the interviews with Rostropovich throw up gems of amusing and touching anecdotes, and by including the Five Fragments they are more than one step ahead of Arts and Caetani. Though there is much to admire in Caetani's performance, there really is no comparison with Rostropovich's; despite occasional leaden moments, the LSO recording never for a moment sounds rushed or casual, which is infinitely worse. While Caetani's hard-driven approach can easily feel superficial and unsatisfying, Rostropovich's reading offers something new and fresh from the very first bars; repeated acquaintance with it might well prove more deeply rewarding.

Pauline Fairclough
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